Max ♕
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Missing even a second of Alyssa's fight was never part of the plan. But then I caught sight of Justin at the back like he had any right to be there, and I flipped. One look at that smug fucking face could cost Liss everything. I needed to do something.

With only a minute and a half left of the first round, I angled toward Justin, who barely had time to react before I grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him into the employee hallway without saying a word.

"You must have a fucking death wish," I hissed, shoving him against the wall, "because only a real fucking idiot would show up here after everything you've done." God, I wanted to hit him – not just hit him, but beat him to a bloody pulp. This kid had caused more damage to my brother and Liss than anyone I knew, and I wanted to fucking kill him for it – consequences be damned.

His smile widened. I readied my fist as he lifted his head, his skin appearing sallow and bruised beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. If I didn't know better, I'd think his pupils were dilated, a clear sign he was on something, which made a lot of sense. A fresh red bruise sat beneath his eye as if someone had beaten me to the punch. I paused, and then, "Who else did you piss off tonight?"

"My dad." He shrugged, trying to keep his voice even, but couldn't quite mask the slight shake. "He doesn't take too kindly to having to bail me out of jail, you know?"

The overwhelming urge to punch him faded, even as he smirked. In fact, as I stared at him, I saw the tiniest glimpse of myself. Clearly, it didn't matter what world you were from; there were shitty parents everywhere. "Do yourself a favor," I said, beginning to loosen my grip, "and–"

"I'm not leaving," he said with unwavering defiance. "I mean, I'm why she's here tonight, right? What kind of guy would I be if I didn't at least show my support?"

Red. Just blinding, hot red. "The reason she's here has nothing to do with you," I growled, seizing him by the throat. Leaning in, I resisted the urge to tighten my grip, determined to wipe that Pretty Boy smile off his face. "I'm not playing around. Get the fuck out of here while you still can." Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Don't kill him. If I end up going to jail on murder charges, Liss will never forgive me.

"If you want to hit me," Pretty Boy said, leaning against the wall, "then go ahead and hit me." With his eyes shut, he braced for the impending impact of my fist on his face. "I'm waiting," he goaded when I didn't move. "Hit me."

It was his same old trick of provoking a reaction from me, aiming to get me arrested. Or maybe it was the influence of drugs that made him act like this. Or perhaps the kid had lost his damn mind.

"Not chickening out now, are you?"

I kept staring at him, my hand still clenched around his throat. For a brief moment, there was nothing on his face—no fear, no cockiness. Just the expression of a man who had surrendered completely. And that's when it hit me: this was the last card he had left to play. His only power over me was forcing me to fight on Liss's big night while knowing how much it would hurt her. For once, the Pretty Boy had nothing left to lose. And I had everything.

Releasing his neck, I stepped back, waiting for him to open his eyes. "Thing is," I said, looking him over, "you're just not worth it." And then I turned around, ready to head back to Alyssa.

"It won't last, you know," he called after me. "Whatever it is that she feels for you. It won't last."

I should have kept walking. My fingers were seconds away from pushing open that door and getting out. Liss would be over by Hayden by now, possibly even wondering where I was. But instead, I looked over my shoulder.

"Sooner or later, the perfect guy will come along and love her in all the ways she deserves." He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling, his mouth twisted. "I know now that it won't be me–" finally, those pale eyes landed on me, "–but it sure as hell won't be you."

That last line hit the hardest, and not because I believed it, but because, for once, I didn't. "Then I better make our time together count." I pushed the door open, making a beeline for the closest security guard, who was too busy watching the fight to see where I'd exited. "There's some guy doing drugs back there," I said, nodding over my shoulder. "You might wanna check that out." Then, I returned to my seat in time to see Alyssa retract her fist, ready to land another jab.

I'd barely had a second to register when it happened—a sudden flash of movement, a sickening impact. Alyssa took a hit and crumpled to the floor in one quick drop.

***

My entire world narrows to her unmoving form, lying under the harsh spotlight. I haven't blinked yet–haven't breathed. The countdown begins, but my gaze stays locked on her groaning body, wracking through every possible next step. If I move too early, if I intervene and she's okay, I fuck up her fight. But watching her lying there...Fuck this.

"Liss!" I growl, leaping to my feet, but Maddie restrains me with a hand on my arm, preventing me from charging toward the ring. "Liss!"

"Give her a chance," Maddie whispers, tugging me down. "You need to give her a chance, Max. She'll get up."

The seconds spin into eternity. I clench my fists, desperately searching for any sign of movement. The collective gasp from the crowd turns into an oppressive stillness. And then I see it—a subtle movement that allows me to breathe. The referee keeps counting down as she raises her head, exposing a reddened jaw. Tears fill her eyes, and her hair tumbles from its plaits. But the moment our eyes lock, I feel better. I'm okay, her face reads. I love you.

I love you, mine reads back.

Alyssa rises from the canvas mid-countdown. I sink back into my seat, heart pounding, jaw clenched, torn between letting her stand for herself and wanting to whisk her away. She told you she's okay, O'Connor. Believe her.

A wave of excitement fills the gym as the referee retreats, mumbling something I can't hear. Alyssa nods, repositions her mouthguard, and acknowledges the crowd's support by blowing a kiss. I feel the biggest grin tug at my lips.

That's my girl.

The two resume circling each other. Red's earlier bravado is nowhere to be seen, and instead, she looks tired, having worn herself down the first round. I'm praying it's enough to give Alyssa an advantage or at least put the pair on an even playing field after her hit, but it's clear Alyssa is tired, too. It's no longer a game of who hits the fastest or hardest but who can outpace the fatigue.

For the next minute, Alyssa dodges Red's hits with the kind of impressive footwork that makes a coach proud. I cheer her on, ensuring my voice rises above the rest, providing the boost she needs. She strikes, her jab swift and streamlined, catching the redhead's cheek. Cheers erupt, and I grin as Maddie squeezes my arm as if to say, I told you so.

Come on, baby, I think. You've got this.

She strides forward like she can hear me, her body a sleek silhouette. With one quick dip, she bounces to the side and raises her gloves, blocking Red's hits before countering with an uppercut. I grin again as Red stumbles, unsure of where Liss is getting this energy from but relieved all the same. There's no doubt now. No second-guessing. The worry she'd had in the first round is gone.

She's here to win.

I check the clock—forty seconds remaining. Alyssa, determined to capitalize on the time, throws another jab. Red retaliates with a blow to Liss's chin, pushing her back against the ropes. But Liss doesn't stay there; she uses the ropes to spring forward, her fist reaching out and landing squarely on Red's nose.

Blood splatters across their faces. Red stumbles back, letting out a strangled cry, but it's not enough to deter her. Her weakness is her jaw, which is why she's so hellbent on protecting it. And if Liss wants a chance at winning, that's where she'll need to aim.

The two continue to exchange a series of blows, the thud of gloves on pads echoing in the gym and damn nearly giving me a heart attack. "She's killing it," Maddie whispers at one point. "Open your eyes, Max."

It's only now that I realize I'd shut them. Liss looks fierce up there, wearing the same expression she wore the first day she walked into the gym. I belong here, it said, even if you disagree.

She was right.

The bell finally rings. In the following seconds, Alyssa visibly wilts, beads of sweat gleaming on her forehead as her chest rises and falls with controlled breaths. The crowd erupts in approval as the pair head to their respective corners. At last, I exhale.

I'm at the ring's edge in a millisecond, stopping short of leaning over the ropes to kiss her. She half-turns toward me, quickly removing her mouthguard as Hayden pours water over her face. "You disappeared," she rasps as Hayden dabs at her face with a towel. "I couldn't see you."

"I know," I whisper, grabbing hold of the ropes. "I'm here now, okay? You were incredible up there, Liss. I'm so proud of you."

Liss smiles so wide it almost cracks her lips. Hayden shoots me a gentle warning look, a reminder that I'm technically not the lead coach and shouldn't be ringside. I step back a little before sharing a tender glance with Liss, wishing I could wrap her in my arms. My eyes scan her face, her neck, her body. But besides a harsh red mark beneath her chin and the tiniest cut near her eyebrow, she's okay.

"It's almost over," I reassure her, longing to reach through the ropes and comfort her. "Just one more round, baby." To hell with it – I lean over the ropes as she presses her damp forehead to mine. Disregarding the ref's glare, I kiss her intensely, step back, and give her a final look. "Focus on right hooks and uppercuts," I tell her as the ref chastises me. "She's protecting a glass jaw."

"Aim for the jaw," Alyssa mumbles. "Noted."

Without another word, I finally let Maddie pull me back to my seat. "Just breathe," she soothes as Alyssa takes her place in the middle of the ring. "She'll be okay."

The final bell drowns out the last of her words. I grip my seat, gaze fixed on Alyssa as she advances, displaying more energy since the break. Before I can fully brace myself, her fist shoots forward with controlled ferocity, propelling Red backward. Alyssa advances once more, unrelenting. A tired Red moves clumsily to the left, narrowly evading Liss's onslaught.

It's the most crucial round, and everyone knows it. Alyssa's shaky beginning puts her behind in points, which means she needs to land a significant knockdown to secure the medal, but my gut has me feeling she can do it.

I believe in her.

Still hell-bent on proving her strength, Red snakes closer, landing a few hits that catch Liss off guard. I hold my breath, running my palms back and forth across my knees, trying to focus on anything but the fact there's only one minute left. Come on, Goldilocks. You can do this.

Liss takes another hit, this time to the mouth. A sharp breath escapes me, and Maddie grips my hand—thirty-five seconds left. Alyssa wipes her lip, glancing at the clock, eyes widening. It's now or never. With a leap to the side, she deftly avoids Red's approaching punch, ducking at just the right moment before charging forward.

Red's eyes darken as she shields her jaw, anticipating impact, but Liss is prepared. Twisting on her heel, she fakes a quick jab, then another. Red drops her guard, and with one final breath, Liss delivers a powerful right hook to Red's jaw, sending her sprawling to the mat.

A hush descends the room as Red remains unmoving. No one dares speak or breathe until the clock on the wall hits zero. The second it does, the room erupts with thunderous cheers.

It's a knockout.

A/N

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